beautiful creature with his beautiful voice singing this beautiful cover ; ;

Cold waters


Pairing: Jungkook x Reader / (implied) Namjoon x Reader 

Genre: Merman!Au / Angst / One-shot

Rated T for mentions of death

Word count: 6.4k

Synopsis: Every night, a song crawls from the woods - they say it’s the lullaby of a monstrous creature that has fallen from grace, a beast fiery like fire and ruthless like ice. Yet, his voice is such beautiful one that the cords of your heart quiver with love for each, saccharine note piercing your skin.

And every night, he draws you in a bit more.

Author’s note: Hello my lovelies! This is my second request (Cold waters, warm touches + His beauty could kill you + Merman!Jeon), at first it was supposed to be a fluffy one but, uhm… it accidentally ended up being another angst *sweats*

Anyway, dear anon, thank you for the nice concept, please lemme know if you liked it <3

There’s a legend, whispered among the sunbeams getting lost in the forest at the borders of the village.

There’s legend, one of a terrible, alluring kind, that widens children’s eyes and makes hearts tremble beneath the warnings of worried mothers.

There’s a legend, more like a secret or maybe a dream, deep carved in the memories of your innocent days; one that has your glances wander into the shadows of the woods when you think that nobody is watching, that nobody is judging.

It’s a legend, they say, about a creature doomed to live in the lake at the center of the forest: oh, a ruthless one, with eyes like broken glass and thick blood covering its claws. Murderous are its intents and fury tints his flesh with such a poisonous vigour that the water is now no different than the venom running under his skin. 

Keep reading


Dear Author, greetings to You! I have a request. Reader is a famous singer, whose voice gets is a voice of a angel, but she hides her face behind a mask. Newt running after niffler is in concert hall and heard her. He sees her singing and fell in love with voice. But she had an abusive boyfriend, who is heating her… and here can be any variation of action…


Alright, I switched the abusive partner for an overzealous fan. I just don’t feel comfortable writing abuse, as its something that I haven’t experienced, and I would hate to upset, offend or trigger anybody. I hope that’s alright and you still like it.


Master list

Originally posted by secretly-a-wizard


Newts breath was coming in sharp gasps, as he sprinted after that bloody niffler. It had wriggled it’s way out of newts innocent looking case, as he was passing by the grand music hall, with its slightly wonky columns of marble, no doubt enticed out by an over polished trombone or something to that effect.

Newt continued his hunt for the damned beast inside, keeping as quiet as he could and trying desperately not to be spotted by any members of staff. spotting something oily black out of the corner of his eye, he crept stealthily across the carpeted floor, as the creature examined and admired its reflection in a particularly shiny flute, that lay in its velvet lined case on one the many seats, waiting patiently to be played, before newt wrapped his hands around his form in a firm grip, a scolding look in his sea green eyes.

As he shuffled from the main music hall, after placing the little pest back into his case, and giving it a good talking to, beautiful music drifted to newts keen ears. Unable to stop himself, he cautiously approached the practice rooms door, an angelic voice began to sing along with the finely played piano. Newt had never in his life been quite so moved by a piece of music, he simply stood, leaning against the cool stone wall, allowing it to wash over him, in a pure moment of bliss.

Newt allowed his mind to wander to who might have such a talent, as the music drew to close, growing quieter and quieter until the mysterious impossibly sweet voice was barely above a whisper. Newt managed to gather himself together, and began to make his leave, as the practice room  door opened just a crack.

Newt continued on his way, down the shallow stone steps, that he had previously leapt up, now in an almost blissful daze, as the tune and the beautiful voice that went with it, continued to drift through his mind, like a dream that his slowly waking was trying desperately to cling on to. That is until a panicked yelp reached his ears, pulling him from his peaceful thoughts. Newt rushed his way down the side street that the sound had come from, finding a rather large man struggling with a woman, trying to remove her hat, grasping her shoulder so tightly that his knuckles were turning white,  she was putting up quite the fight, but the man was much too strong for her to put up much more resistance.

Newt quickly weighed his options, before finally deciding to discretely pull out his wand, casting a body bind charm, seeming turning the greasy haired  man to rigid stone, before falling to the damp pavement of the  grimy side street.

The woman seemed shaken but not too concerned about the use of magic, with a slight sigh of relief, newt hurried his way over to her “are you alright?’ he asked, his soft voice full of concern for the stranger.  He could just about make out the ghost of a smile behind the ornate lace Vail that covered her face. She nodded still shaking slightly, ‘yes, thank you for your help, goodness knows what might have happened if you hadn’t have been here.’

Her slightly lilted voice sounded vaguely familiar, ‘were, were you singing, in one of the practice rooms?’ he asked curiously, an odd spark of hope in his chest.  Newt just caught the sadness in her eyes, hidden behind the delicate mask of lace, before she nodded her reply.

 ‘well it was beautiful, I’ve never heard anything quite like it’ newt complimented, rambling slightly, before she released a light giggle, though she was still clearly shaken.

“I think there’s a little café over the road there, a cup of sweet tea might help with the shock.’

As the pair turned out of the side street, newt flicked his wand behind his back, giving the foul man the counter curse to his new found rigidity.


Have a great day and be safe


Rising Tide

Pairing: Jimin, Jungkook, BTS, fluff, angst, happy ending

Jungkook woke to the sound of a soft melody and sighed. This is the third time this month. He rubbed his eyes and sat up trying to figure out the song, trying to figure out how bad it really is.

Keep reading


Siren!Seungkwan | 13 Days of Sevenween

Word Count: 1,569

Genre: Fluff

You really did not want to be here. Stuck in a boat, with your family, in the middle of the ocean. Okay, right in the middle may be an exaggeration, but it might as well have been the truth. Nothing was seen except deep, dark blue waves spreading to the horizon; like a blanket of navy dotted with the occasional jagged, grey rock.

 You tried to just relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery, but the constant bickering of your younger siblings was driving you insane and pulling you out of your reverie every few seconds. Preparing to lash out at them and give them the lecture of the century, you stopped as soon as your mouth opened. 

You heard a gorgeous, near entrancing sound in the distance. It was slightly muffled, which was an utter shame. You looked around, hoping to find the source of the wondrous sound. Nothing. You shrugged, it must have been your imagination. But no more than a minute later, it was back! It sounded like someone was singing, quite well for that matter.

You quickly glanced to your mother, to whom you asked “Did you just hear that?”

She stared at you blankly, as if you were crazy.

“Hear what? There’s no noise except your brothers over there and the waves, darling.”

You shook your head, “I can’t be the only one who heard that. I hear a voice! Like someone is singing, or calling out to us! Someone could be asking for help!”

“Y/N is going senile, she’s hearing things! There’s nothing out here except thousands of fish and rocks, smart one." One of your brothers rolled his eyes. 

You grunted in defeat, and slumped back into your seat on the boat. Just as you closed your eyes in hopes of perhaps napping off your delusion, the voice hit you again, but it sounded closer. Slowly, you sat up and looked to the direction from which the enchanting noise was coming from. There, perched on a rock hundreds of yards away, was the barely visible silhouette of what looked like a young man. With a tail. Gaping, you blinked multiple times, at this point wishing you were just seeing things. He wouldn’t disappear. Were your ears playing tricks on you? Did your eyes decide to join in on the torment? No, this was all too real. You unconsciously reached out to the faint shadow, who mirrored your movement. Amazing!

Slowly, though, the shadow disappeared into the fog rising off the ocean. You quickly turned back to your family, who were all looking at you in slight surprise.  

"What the heck were you trying to touch Y/N?” Your brother asked.

You felt your cheeks become hot as you hastily answered, “O-oh! I just… saw a cool fish!”

Your brothers burst out in a fit of cackling, and your mother shook her head, smiling. You were going to find that man on the rock again if it was he last thing you were to do. You had to know who he was, and more importantly, prove to yourself you weren’t crazy.

As you caught a glimpse of land, you could’ve sworn you heard a faint, melodic voice calling “Goodbye~” in the distance.

The next morning, you were the first person up. You jumped out of bed, pulled on clothes appropriate for the chilly sea air, grabbed an apple for a quick breakfast, wrote a note to your parents explaining that you were “going out to sea to try and find that cool fish you saw the other day”, and bounded out the front door.

You half-walked-half-ran to the dock where your family’s boat was, and jumped in. You took the spare boat key from your jacket pocket and jammed it into the ignition, which started the somewhat loud, more like wake-up-the-whole-town loud in your opinion, motor. Within seconds, you were speeding away from the dock and the mainland of your home.

Once you were at a steady speed and no longer needed steering, you pulled out a map and looked for where you marked on it the day before.

“There. He was there.” You muttered to yourself, pointing to the dot you hastily drew.

You set the gps on the surprisingly advanced, for a family boat, boat and set off to find the mystery mer-man. About a half hour later, the gps beeped, alerting you that you had reached your destination. You stopped the boat, and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited some more. You must have fallen asleep, well, it was early, because you were awakened by a splashing sound and some freezing, salty water hitting your face.

You groggily blinked your eyes open, and couldn’t believe your eyes. There he was, yet again. Sitting leisurely on the same rock as yesterday, only much closer. At the very most, two yards away. Smiling, he rested his chin in his hands,

“Have you been waiting long?”

You stared in awe for a moment, taking in his ethereal beauty. It was no wonder they called mermaids and mer-men myths, no one could possibly be this stunning. He had perfectly tousled mahogany hair, and a complimentary pair of striking amber eyes. His features were soft, not too defined, but still appearing to have been sculpted by the gods themselves. And last, but definitely not last, he had a tail covered in shimmering pale blue scales. This couldn’t possibly be real! But, alas, it was. 

He snapped you out of your daze by flicking more sea water in your face with his tail, “Hello! Earth to human!”

You jerked your head towards him, and stuttered out an apology. “I-I’m sorry, I’ve just never-" 

“Seen a creature like me before? Oh, I’m sure. It’s not every day a girl gets to meet one of the worlds few, rare sirens.”

That gorgeous, mischievous grin never left his face. Wait, a siren? Those things in old folklore that led fishermen to their death by singing, as if they had cast a spell on them? Impossible! He was much too, well, nice looking to be one of those.

“Now, before you ask, no. I’ve never killed any dumb old sailor. That’s just a nasty myth.”

Could he read your mind?

“Th-then why do you sing? Well, I mean, I would assume you also do it because you enjoy it, but isn’t it still dangerous? You could still lure some poor man to his death!” You suddenly accused him.

“Hmm, I suppose that is true. I’ll have to work on that,” He tapped his chin as if he was deep in thought, “However, that’s not why I’ve led you out here, human.”

He meant to get you out here, in the middle of the ocean? Alone? What could his intentions properly be?

“Quite frankly, human, wait, what’s your name?”

You quickly stammered out an answer.

“Y/N, huh? A beautiful name for a beautiful person. I’m Seungkwan, by the way.”

You could’ve sworn he winked.

“Frankly, Y/N, I lured you out here because, honestly, I’m lonely. I’ve seen you out here with your family before, and you seem like a great person to spend time with. I know that seems creepy, but when one doesn’t have others to rely on for companionship save for fish and sharks, they tend to observe the people and things around them. So I began observing you." 

Your cheeks grew hot, "You-you have? How could I seem like a good person to befriend? All you’ve probably seen me do is yell at my brothers and stare off into the sea.”

Looking almost offended, Seungkwan crossed his arms, “I’ve been around for a lot longer than you have, Y/N. Sirens are near immortal. Technically, I watched you grow up. You’ve become a much different person than who you were as a child. You’ve become more reserved, more contemplative. Although, I do know very little about you. Tell me about yourself.”

Hesitantly, you gave him a brief description of your hobbies, your family life, what school was like, and he responded in kind. You learned Seungkwan was one of the only sirens who lived in the area, he was originally from the South China Sea near South Korea. He travelled here to gain some independence from his family, and meet new people. You could have talked to him all day. Coincidentally, you did.

You were in the middle of trying to explain to him what having legs was like, when you noticed the sky turning a soft orange color, the sun was setting.

“You must need to get home, huh?” He inquired.

You nodded glumly, and he scooted forward so he was only inches from your face.

“Go, then. I can’t let you catch a cold and get yelled at by your parents for being out here all night.” You nodded again, smiling this time. He was beginning to care about you. He hastily pecked your cheek, to which you responded by turning the color of a tomato.

“Promise me you’ll keep coming to see me! I hate being all alone out here." 

Laughing slightly at his childish demand, you nodded a third time, "I promise, but only if you sing to me more.”

He agreed, and soon after he had dove under the waves. You sat back in the chair on the boat, replaying the day’s events in your mind. This should be quite the story for your family.

-Written by Admin Usagi


mere-people au (??) baz is a siren. 

Also, it’s Sam’s ( @crossstitchedonmythrowpillows ) birthday! Happy birthday my good friend <3 This one’s for you :) (go wish them a v happy birthday!!)

tw for abusive home situation. 

[simon pov]

My father always warned me about the Sirens. Vicious mere-people with sharp teeth and persuading beauty they were, according to the stories. 

Though, I can’t imagine them being scarier than my own father. 

My parents had been yelling again, and when my mother came to my room she told that right now it would be best if I would go visit a friend.

“Don’t you and Penny have something to work on for school? Go, go and pay your friend a visit.”

My mom hasn’t been herself lately, she’s, well, a bit confused lately. No, Penny and I don’t have anything for school to work on, it’s summer vacation. My mother has seem to forgotten, though.

I don’t blame her. My father’s been getting worse. When my mother came to my room her eyes were red and her arms were covered in red handprints. I wish I could protect her from my father, but she wouldn’t let me. She thinks she needs to be the one protecting me. 

I know I wouldn’t win from my father. I’m only fourteen and my body hasn’t grown into itself yet. My mother is right when she tells me my father would hurt me if she didn’t stand in between me and my father. There’s no way that I would win that argument, but I don’t think she understands how much it hurts me, seeing her like this. 

So now I’m outside, expected to go to Penny, but I don’t want to constantly bother her family when mine is fucking it all up again. I’m walking towards the rocky part of the beach, to watch the waves as they come and go. 

I know the Sirens are real, I wonder if I’ll spot one. When Penny and I were younger we always used to be out looking for the Sirens. I think Penny has stopped believing in their existence, but I never have. I am sure I’ve seen one of them once. A dark green tail is all I saw that day, but I know it didn’t belong to a normal fish–like I said, the tail was dark green–I know it was a Siren. 

The sun has already gone under when I sit down on one of the rocks. The waves splash against my rock, but I’m sitting high enough not to get wet. I have my knees pulled up agains my chest, my arms hugging them whilst he rest my chin on my arms. A huge sigh leaves my mouth. 

I close my eyes and force myself to relax. Mom will be okay

I hate myself for being so weak.

When I open my eyes again and look at the water I see a pair of eyes looking back at me. I jump and almost fall of my rock. The boy–it a boy, around my age–seems to be frightened by my sudden jump and sneers at me before it ducks back under the surface of the water. Only a second later I see the boy’s dark green tail, and he’s gone. 

I crawl to the edge of the rock and look at the sea, but there’s no boy, no Siren, there to be found. 


The next evening I’m back at on my rock, waiting–hoping–to see the Siren again. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the boy. He had black, half long hair and a reddish-brown skin. No matter the short look I had gotten, of one thing I was sure, I was intrigued by his beauty. I wanted to see him again. 

Sadly, that evening, he didn’t show. Same for the day after that. And the day after that.

I felt alone. 


Tonight, as I sat on my rock, I was crying. 

It hadn’t been my mother who had come into my room to tell me to go see Penny this evening, like normally. I had been sitting on my bed, covering my ears so I wouldn’t have to hear their screams when my father stormed into my room. 

“Out!” was all he said to me. I cried for my mother like a six year old. I didn’t know where she was. I still don’t know. 

I’m hugging myself as tears after tears make a path down my cheeks. 

“Why are you crying?” I hear a soft but clear voice say. 

I look down into the water and see the same pare of eyes, the same boy as a few days ago, staring back up at me. My eyes grow wide in surprise. This time I have a lot more time to take the boy in. His eyes almost the same color as the sea surrounding him, only more gray. His eyes are round and droopy. His whole complexion is incredibly sharp for a boy of his age. (It makes me wonder how old he actually is.) 

“You can talk?” I ask him, I don’t know much about Sirens. Only the stories the people’ll tell you. Those stories are about women that would lure sailors to shipwreck with their enchanting voices. Those stories had never scared me. How can people be so sure of the story when all the people that had seemed to be actually there when the story had unfolded, had died. Who had been the one that had told the story when no one ever survived? When I was younger the story used to make me giggle. 

My mother used to tell me different stories about Sirens than all the other people did. She told me about societies of mere-people that lived on the bottom of the ocean in huge palaces that they shared with the fish. She told me the sirens were friends with the other sea creatures because of their beautiful voices. The Sirens would sing to make life under water happy and beautiful. 

“Why wouldn’t I be able to talk? You assume I can only sing?” The boy asked.  

I don’t know what I’d assumed. Just not talking. I shrug.

“Why are you crying?” The boy asks again even though I’m pretty sure my tears have stopped. 

“I think I’ve lost my mother,” I say and I feel my eyes water again. 

“Did the Sirens steal her?” The Siren boy asks.  

I stare at him for a moment. His eyes, his eyes his eyes. I want to get closer. 

“No,” I tell him and then I ask him, “Are you here to steal me?”

“Do you want to come with me?”

I think for a moment. “Yes,” I answer.

“Than it wouldn’t be stealing, would it?” 

I smile at him and lean closer to him. I want to touch him. I want to know if he’s real.

“You can come into the water if you want,” The young Siren says. I nod and strip down to my briefs before I slip into the water. The water is cold but I don’t really mind. I get as close to the boy as I can get without making him look uncomfortable, which is pretty damn close. Our noses are almost touching. 

“Hi,” I say and I feel lame saying it. The Siren boy just grins. “What is your name?” I ask him curiously.


“Basilton?” I say. “I guess that fits.”

“Just calling me Baz would be okay, though.”

“Okay. Baz.”

My legs are moving, kicking, to keep my head above the water. Sometimes my legs brush against Basilton’s long green tail. It makes me smile for some reason. 

“Do all Sirens have green tails?” I ask him.

“No, why would you think that?” 

I just shrug. 

“Do you want to swim together?” Baz asks. I’m still smiling and I nod.

Baz swims so much faster than I do. (It’s because of his tail, it isn’t fair.) We don’t stray far from my rock when we swim, or at least I don’t. 

Sometimes Baz disappears for moments underwater and then tries to sneak up on me, hoping to make me jump. Eight out of ten times, he succeeds. 

“You’re tired,” Baz says after a while. 

“I’m not,” I lie.

“You are.”

“I want to stay here.” 

Baz smiles at me, comes closer and takes my hands in his. I can’t help but blush. 

“You could come with me,” he says.

“I could?”

“Of course!”

“Wouldn’t I drown?”

Baz was silent for a moment. “I’d have to turn you. If I bite you, you’d become a Siren. You could come live with me.” 

Baz seems excited, but I feel a little scared and mainly unsure. 

“But–” I say, “I need to wait here.”

“For what?”

“My mother.”

“You said you lost her.”

“I need to find her again. Baz, she will come back for me. I need to wait here. I need to find her again,” I tell him desperately.

Baz’s face falls. “You won’t find her here,” Baz whispers.

“I have to wait,” I tell him, whispering as well. I lean my head forward a bit so our foreheads touch. “Will you be here again tomorrow?” 

Baz nods and I give him a weak smile. Before I know it Baz pressed his lips against mine in a firm, quick kiss. He ducks under the surface of the water so quickly that I can barely see his face after he pulled away from the kiss. Though I’m sure he was blushing. 


The next few days are a mess. I don’t visit the rock. Leaving Baz like that makes me hate myself. I hope he understands, if I see him again.


It’s almost a week later when I visit the rock again, crying again. I’m still wearing the black clothes of my mothers funeral. No one knows where I am. Penny knows I went on a walk after the funeral, but no one knows I’m here. No one knows why I’m here. 

“You’re crying again,” I hear Baz say. 

I look up and I nod. “You came.”

Baz looks unhappy. “I came every day. I told myself today was the last day I would come to see if you were here. Why are you crying?”

“My mother… She’s gone.”

“Still lost?”



I shake my head, but then I say, “I think my father.”

“Why do you think that?” He asks, but I just stay quiet. 

“Simon?” He asks again, but I don’t answer. I just strip my clothes off and get into the water. I swim towards Baz and wrap my arms around him when I am close enough. I clung onto him and cry. He wraps his arm around me and holds me tightly. 

The two of us slowly sink under the surface of the water. Neither of us cares. 

Only when I’m desperate for air I kick myself up. My head appears above the surface again and I inhale. The crying has stopped. It’s only a second later when Baz’s head pops up above the water as well. He just stares at me.

“I want you to turn me,” I tell him.

He nods, though he doesn’t look happy about it the way he did last week. 

“I want to be with you,” I say.

Baz nods again and then he kisses me. I sigh into the kiss, wanting to cry again. Though this time it would be tears of relief. I feel sure of this, I feel sure of him. I feel safe and that is something I’ve never felt in my entire life. 

I hold onto him and I kiss back. I relax, I feel. I’m good, even though so many things are so far from good right now. This, this is good. Baz is good and I want to stay with him.

“Baz, I want you to turn me,” I say against his lips. 

Baz breaks away from the kiss and looks me in the eyes. I look back. His eyes are beautiful and I love them. 

“Okay,” Baz tells me and he presses a kiss to my cheek. And then a kiss on my neck.

And then teeth, before all goes black. 


I feel weird when I wake up. You’d think I’d feel out of place, but no… just weird. 

Though when I open my eyes and look around I know all is good. 

I’m safe.

His eyes, his eyes, his eyes. 

The Shore Up Above

This is for @pale-silver-comb because I thought about her the other day and how I missed seeing her on my dash only for her to get back on tumblr and get some mean anons which was just Not Necessary. SO in reference to this post and @poetry-protest-pornography‘s lovely writing, have some Mer!Stiles, Emma <3 <3

Stiles is intimately familiar with the shoreline of the island in the middle of his ocean. It’s beautiful with the clean, white sand, the mountains rising up sharply, the volcano that got so big it made itself into an island above the water instead of staying below. And don’t get him started on the sunsets or the humans or the storm clouds or the boats.

Gosh some of the boats are just so pretty.

That’s just the thing, there’s so much about the island that’s attractive and beautiful. And for a race of people obsessed with pretty things and collecting them, Stiles doesn’t understand why everyone avoids islands and humanity so much.

Well, okay. That’s a lie. He knows why historically it’s a good idea for merfolk to avoid the human race.

Humans hunt things they don’t understand, humans don’t believe some things even when it’s right in front of their eyes. And, most important, humans tend to drown when merfolk sing and ask them to swim for a while.

That’s always a buzz kill.

Asking a human to go for a swim only for them to go too deep and run out of air. Somehow humans survive without being able to shift their lungs from taking air from their throat to their gills. Which…doesn’t help with the swimming thing.

But all in all, even though Stiles spends far too much time by the island for his parents’ comfort, he knows how to do it safely. He only goes up at night or dusk, he stays away from boats and those dock things.

Sometimes, though, despite all his precautions, things go wrong.

Of course, things haven’t ever gone as wrong as they did last night.

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Carving of a mermaid in St Senara’s Church in Zennor, Cornwall. 

The story goes that a mermaid would sneak into the church wearing a beautiful dress to cover her tail so that she could hear the singing of a young man named Mathew Trewella. Mathew had a beautiful voice that rang out on the breeze down to the sea which is how the mermaid, whose name was Morveren, came to first hear him.

So entranced was she by his voice that she felt she simply must risk leaving the sea to get a glimpse of the voice’s owner. So for many weeks she would sit at the back of the church, silently, so as not to draw attention to herself, and would listen. She would always leave before the service came to an end so as not to miss high tide and end up stranded. 

One day, Mathew’s voice was so beautiful and strong that she let slip the tiniest of sighs. It caught Mathew’s attention and he turned to face her and fell in love instantly. 

Morveren panicked and tried to flee but became tangled in her dress. She was about to fall when Mathew caught her, bringing with him the attention of the other parishioners. Everyone could clearly see the mermaid’s tail now and Morveren was terrified. She told Mathew:

“I cannot stay. I am a sea creature, and must go back where I belong.”

To which he replied:

“Then I will go with ye. For with ye is where I belong.”

He lifted the mermaid up into his arms and ran with her down to the sea with the village in hot pursuit, yelling at him to stop. But he didn’t care. He kept running, wading out into the depths of the sea with his mermaid love, never to be seen again. 

It is said that his songs could still be hear though, as if guiding the fishermen. High and soft if the seas were calm and deep and low if the waves were too rough. 

"Under The Sea"

Admin: Lilith

Imagine: One shot where reader gets turned into a mermaid? Reader x Castiel please and thank you!! :)

Word Count: 2421

Warning: Fish things, water, swearing. Your name: submit What is this?

There was a flutter of wings from somewhere in the living room. You immediately slumped down farther into the bathtub, making the water slosh gently.
“Y/N? Are you here?”
You responded to this by sliding down so far that your nose was nearly level with the water. Castiel’s footsteps grew closer and closer until they paused right outside the door. “Y/N, are you not answering because of personal ablutions?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
In spite of the situation, you snorted out a laugh. “No, I know it’s you.”
“Ah.” You could imagine him cocking his head slightly in the bemused silence that followed. “Well. Good.”
“Um. Cas, listen, I sort of have a…situation going on, here.”
“Do you require my assistance?” His voice had gone suddenly alert. “I can get the tampons and ice cream.”
“Not that.”
“Is it the other ‘situation?'” You could just picture the little smirk playing on his lips as his voice roughened just slightly. “I could help with that, too. I would very much like to help.”
There was a lengthy pause. “Brace yourself,” you finally said, taking a shaky breath and covering your face with your hands. “And come in.”

You heard the door open and shut, and then the rustle of the shower curtain as it was pulled back. There was a gentle intake of breath, and then silence.
Eventually, you peeked through your fingers. Castiel was standing over you, frozen, one hand still gripping the colorful plastic curtain. His eyes were flicking over you, his expression growing increasingly bewildered as his agitation grew.
“You’re a mermaid,” he said incredulously.

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mermaid/sailor au jikook for forjimin
rated t for turbulent seas
word count: 1,377

Jimin grows up hearing stories about the dangers of sirens, beautiful women with lashes like stardust and smiles dripping with liquid moonshine. He grows up learning every single trick in the book—cover your ears, shield your eyes, and never believe in their beautiful lies—and he knows all there is to know about the ocean and its depthless dark. Or so he thinks he knows, because if he truly did know, he wouldn’t have chosen a night like this to take a walk along the waves. If he truly did know, he would have stayed well and warm in bed and slept away the blue moon and he might still have a grip on all his heart has to offer.

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you were the brightest of us

summary: what is one supposed to do when the stars go out?

word count: 11.2k

a/n: major character death and angst ahead. this took a lot out of me if i’m being honest. grief is hard. but hopefully i break a few hearts along with mine.

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the moon is a cold light - blindsided; bon iver

The funeral is held five days later.

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Klaroweek: Royal AU

Anonymous said: For day 6 of Klaroweek, Klaus as a king and Caroline as the lady engaged to his rival please ?

I know you asked for the AU day, but pretty much I’ve been writing an AU week. Also, I’m just going to apologize for the dragons. Sort of apologize for the dragons. lynyrdwrites here you go.

Ambassador Caroline Forbes was fifteen feet from her carriage when the world rumbled. Her carriage shook on its wheels, and she hesitated. Glancing about the wide courtyard, she nearly stumbled at what had been the open gate.

There was a dragon blocking her exit.

She stared at it, the rich ebony scales gleaming in the early morning light. The dragon turned its head and one giant, golden eye larger than her body watched her from a narrow pupil. The scent of ash and heat filled the air as the dragon yawned. Large, gleaming teeth the color of bone were on full display.

The courtyard was frozen.

Beyond that serpentine head was a body that could reach sixty feet, depending on age. Impressive. Beautiful. Dangerous.

“Kol likes to show off.”

The low, accented voice cut into the silence and it was only years of diplomatic training that kept her shoulders from tightening. Kept her from bolting for the carriage that clearly wouldn’t be leaving regardless.

“He’s beautiful,” Caroline said without turning her head. “Is there a particular reason he’s blocking my departure?”

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i’ll be here


summary: “Don’t be afraid,” The red head says, “They won’t break.”

“What happens if they do?“ 

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” AU.

notes: an au no one asked for. this fic was heavily inspired by ‘The Book of Life’ and ‘Hotarubi no Mori e’.  and i wanted to try a new writing style and this was the product of that. this fic is for Lisa because she is a precious human being and i really love her. i can’t thank her enough for inspiring me everyday. i love you babe <333 

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Staining The Sundarbans - 1

It was 5am as we set off from Chandpai forest station, heading south into the Sundarbans. A thick dark fog hung sullenly about us. A few kilometers on, visibility beyond the prow fell to near zero, forcing us to dock mid-river.

As we waited, voices rang out from somewhere in the thick blur: fishermen singing to semaphore their presence. Occasionally a low dinghy would row quietly by, unseen until it was almost upon us.

In the distance, a ship boomed its approach. Our boat master shook his head in concern. In such poor visibility, we’d stand no chance if we stood in its path. He revved up the engine and guided us into a khal (a channel).

5am on December 9, 2014 must have been just such a scene. The Oil Tanker Southern Star -7 was docked four kilometers from the confluence of the rivers Sela and Passur, near Mrigamari in dense fog. It carried 350,000 liters of heavy black viscous furnace oil.

The fog must have been at its darkest and alertness at its dullest when a cargo ship, also plying the same channel, loomed unexpectedly upon the tanker. The Southern Star-7 stood no chance.

When the cargo ship rammed into it, it nose-dived its cargo into the Sela River.

The Sela is part of the Sundarbans, the largest unbroken stand of mangrove forests in the world. A UNESCO World Heritage Site. A fragile ecosystem that has adapted itself to life on the brink of brine, for these mangroves form the margin between the salt water of the Bay of Bengal and the freshwaters of three mighty South Asian rivers: The Ganges, the Brahmaputra, and the Meghna.

Sundarbans, which literally translates as “beautiful forest”, straddles the border between India and Bangladesh along the eastern Indian state of West Bengal. India has 40% and Bangladesh has 60% of the mangroves. Both areas are designated wildlife sanctuaries and reserve forests.

This mangrove margin is home to some of the world’s most endangered creatures: the masked finfoot; the Irrawaddy, Gangetic, and four other kinds of dolphins; the Bengal tiger and the beautiful, endangered sundri tree (Heritiera fomes). Almost a million forest people depend upon this ecosystem for their livelihood.

By definition and by law, heavy shipping traffic carrying hazardous cargo has no place in the Sundarbans.  Yet in Bangladesh, tankers carrying “modified cargo” — oil, pesticides, fertilisers, insecticides, fly ash, cement, sand, and salt — cleave the channels of this fragile ecosystem every day; each traverse a disaster waiting to happen.

On December 9th, the Fates were tempted once too often. Two ships collided; 230,000 liters of oil poisoned this fragile, protected environment.

Our boat, the Gol-Patta, reached the Sundarbans on December 14, four days after the spill. Men, women, and children were knee deep in the mudflats and elbow deep in heavy fuel oil. They were scraping black, viscous goo from sedges, reeds, leaves, trunks, roots. Each painstaking handful of black pulp collected was smeared off along the rim of a cooking pot. Then they turned back to the plants for more.

Children were covered in black from toe to waist.

Khals — channels filled with sweet and brine, that snake through the mangroves — now flowed dark, dirty, and viscous. The forest stood ankle deep in low tide, in 3m high black tar socks. The high-tide line had become the oil-line.

The river below danced with oil too: graded by thickness from black to brown and then all colors of the rainbow.

Dark acrid stinging fumes spiraled from fires heating oil in the sleepy fishing village of Joymoni on the Sela river.

Save for the blackened fishermen and children, we saw no one else cleaning the spill. The slick sloshed forward in the ebbing tide. We followed it: 4 km past the spill site, 8 km past the spill site, 12 km past the spill site, then fifteen … twenty … thirty … forty … the slick sloshed ahead of us, beside us, behind us. Films of oil of varying thicknesses floated in the main channel and pooled in the smaller khals.

The tide went out by nightfall and came back in at dawn. The oil, ditto.

With the dawn tide came fishermen who had seen the slick almost 80 km down the river.

Oil was everywhere – thick, doom-black, hugging the sides of the mangroves for almost 30km, and a playful, almost beautiful swish of colors afloat along the 80 km stretch of river.

The plants and trees of mangrove forests are uniquely adapted to the salt-and-sweet water inter-tidal zone. They deal with submergence during high tide by sprouting aerial roots, snorkels that stay above the water to breathe. Those snorkels (called pneumatophores) were now smothered in black oil; the forest seemed like it was choking, gasping for breath.

Consequences of the spill were all around us, yet so much more remained unseen, unquantified.

In Dhaka, capital of Bangladesh, newspapers screamed of dying animals. Activists on social media posted doctored images of oil-dripping dolphins and oil-swimming tigers. To counter the anger, the government spokespersons shot back officialese for ‘no harm came from the oil-spill and it is all under control.’

The dark truth lurked somewhere in-between.

Animals caught in the water during the first few days of the spill were coated with oil, and may have died. We had seen a blackened crocodile slip tentatively into a brown slick 10 km from the spill site, but we had no way of knowing its fate. We had also seen flocks of egrets there, flying white and free of any smears.

The worry was not so much of animals dying in the immediate aftermath, but of the oil staying in the water, on the mudflats, and smearing the trees.

The effects of the coated and residual oil will be seen over months in the forests of this ecosystem. It could manifest in hormonal changes and reproductive changes, over time, in animals exposed to the substance. How exactly this spill will affect the ecosystem can only be determined by a scientific longitudinal study which, at this point, no one has signed up to do.

A spill of this magnitude in an area this ecologically sensitive is a qualifiable, quantifiable disaster mandating emergency measures. Yet, clean-up operations have been slow and unscientific, and are focused only on recovering the oil from the banks in a buy-back scheme by the company, Padma Oil, that owned the barrels in the Southern Star-7.

Here is where the hazard lies: fishermen from the village (Joymoni) most affected by the spill are collecting the oil. Children, women, men, all scrape the goo by hand and collect floating smeared plant matter that they dump into their boats. The boats are towed back to the village “depot” by the Forest Department, which is coordinating the effort (with local NGOs). Here, the plant matter is boiled and heated to loosen the oil. This is collected in barrels, and trucked back to Padma Oil.

The fishermen are doing all the collection and boiling sans any protective gear. They are smeared in oil by day on the river, and engulfed in its fumes when they get home. These oils contain chemicals that are toxic. It can have dire digestive, pulmonary, and dermatological effects and, if the exposure extends over time, also neurotoxic effects.

Eleven days after the spill, the children of Joymoni have begun to fall sick. They have been throwing up. But no one cares, no one spares a thought – it is all about recovering and selling back the oil.

No lessons appear to have been learnt. The Bangladesh shipping ministry has already begun to push for resumption of shipping traffic through the Sundarbans. Area rumor says the matter has been taken out of the jurisdiction of the Ministry for Transportation and transferred to the Ministry of Environment and Forests.

The Bangladeshi government, after dragging its feet in the aftermath of the spill and then organizing the cleanup in haphazard manner, has its eye firmly fixed on the lost revenue from the stalled shipping lane, and is now desperately downplaying the extent of the disaster.

How things unfold in the aftermath of this disaster remains to be seen. I will continue to report on this incident, and analyze how we got here. The reportage will also focus on a larger problem looming over the Sundarbans.

[BITE] Pt 1

Originally posted by vmiin

Lord almighty look at him! im in love all over again. hopefully anon likes this since they didn’t really ask for to much, so i turned it into a series!! I also used Troye Sivan Bite song ahaha.


Taehyung vampire au^^

characters : Vamp!Tae x Y/n 

genre : angst!! , smut ? , fluff? 

description: He lost her the first time, he wasn’t going to lose you.



Kiss me on the mouth and set me free

Sing me like a choir

His eyes followed her, tracing the curve of her neckline, licking his lips out of hunger, picking his prey in the swarm of girls throughout the club. It would be easy as most of them being too drunk to remember how they would need up with his markings.As the tan skinned male approached his next victim,he couldn’t help but notice that no one would be like ‘her’. She was a goddesses if she stood in the same room as these women they wouldn’t stand a chance.

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1,476 words
mentions of abuse, character death

Inspired by this post and written for jamkook because she’s jikook trash and I love her

Humans always say mermaids have the sweetest of voices, that they are owners of the most enticing of music but Jimin begs to differ. The most beautiful voice is on land and he knows this because hiding among the numerous voices of his fellow kinsmen there is one that catches his attention, that filters into his ears and enchants him to the point that he follows the sound, swims all the way to the shores that the elders always say they should avoid.

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Forest Song

Summary: Nano takes Ross out on a date. He learns a little bit more about her past.
Pairing: Nanomax
Rating: SFW
Words: 1978
(Read on AO3)

Days stretched as the summer reached it’s peak. Girls sat in the park, fanning themselves with copies of tabloid magazines and watching the children run around with water pistols. Boys loitered in the shade, unwilling to show off their pale English skin and not brave enough to take the risk of novice fake tanning.

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Story of the Duck

Words: 1071

Summary: Fluffy Fluff McFlufferson. Cas and Reader spend a day in the sun. When the reader points out that a cloud looks like a duck, Castiel tells her about the creation of a few animals.

A/N: This was requested by superwholock-superwholock. Hope this is fluffy enough for you! 

Have a request? Check out my blog. I respond to all messages. Enjoy!


You closed your eyes, letting the sun turn the inside ofyour eyelids a deep maroon. It was an unseasonably warm day, and you wereoutside soaking in all the heat and Vitamin D you could get. The old comforter was soft under you back, and the ends of the grass blades ticked your bare toes where they hung off the blanket. A bird or two twittered somewhere in the distance, and the branches to the trees murmured in the light breeze. Somewhere a car rolled by, the engine fading as it moved away.

“You look so peaceful here,” a husky voice said near your ear. You shot up, looking to the side. It was Castiel, an angel you had met when the Winchester brothers had passed through town. Today he had lost some of that harried look you had come to associate with him; the corners of his blue eyes crinkled when he smiled at you. Your heart flip-flopped; every time Castiel dropped in on you like this your crush on him just got stronger.

“I apologize for startling you,” he said, pressing a hand to your shoulder and urging you back onto the blanket. He lay next to you and tugged your head onto his shoulder, the canvas material of his trenchcoat against the back of your neck.

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